


delusions of grandeur

by Apricot



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Impure Fluff, Missing Scene, Multi, Oh No They're Hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricot/pseuds/Apricot
Summary: A missing moment after Jabba's barge is destroyed.





	delusions of grandeur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StaringAtTheTwinSuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaringAtTheTwinSuns/gifts).



It takes Leia’s protest  _ and  _ a threatening growl from Chewbacca (or perhaps vice-versa, what does he know, he’s apparently blind) for Han to finally consent to Lando flying the Falcon.

Things were finally beginning to take shape in his field of vision. He did get occasionally dizzy. Maybe if the Falcon kept from shifting the walls around, he’d grumbled at Leia, who’d smiled-- or at least, he thought she had. He’d tried bargaining with Chewie, who’d been indulgent as Wookies could get after his rescue, but hadn’t let that extend to circumventing Leia’s edict. 

Nevermind that he’d been away from his ship for what Luke said was the better part of a year, and once they got free of immediate, Sarlacc-shaped danger, the three things he wanted to do were: 1) kiss Leia, 2) fly his ship off this rock, and 3) devour as many nerf-steaks as he could get. He wasn’t exactly wed to any particular order, either.

“Hey.”

He turned his head slightly, sending the towel Leia had draped thoughtfully over his temples in an attempt to get him to rest his eyes-- or rather, to stay out of the cockpit while Chewie and Lando did pre-flight checks, he suspected-- tumbling to the ground.

“I’ve got it.” Luke’s voice was somewhere near his feet, just as Han leaned up on his elbows, which meant the floating towel hit him in the face. 

“ _ Hey!” _

“Sorry--” Luke said, not really sounding very sorry at all. He did sound like he was grinning too, delighted and with a trace of that cocky farmboy Han had found so annoying initially and now was..comforting.

“So that Force thing’s working out for you, hmm?”

“I guess so. How are your eyes?”

“I can mostly see shapes,” Han said, sitting partially up to squint. In the dim light, it was more difficult, and so he leaned forward a little to bring him more into focus and-- oh, that was suddenly very close. Luke had perched on the edge of his cot, somehow more  _ still  _ and at ease than Han had remembered him ever being-- and then he grinned, and there was that green farmhand again, ready to take on the entire Empire in his X-Wing. Like an idiot.

He leaned back a little, suddenly self-conscious with Luke peering over him like that. “So. A year, huh? Want to give me the quick version?”

“Oh, you know,” Luke said. “Last minute escapes, dangerous missions. Staying one step ahead of the Empire. Would’ve been easier, with you around.”

“Sorry about that.” 

His go-to response  _ should _ have been a flat-out denial-- he hadn’t exactly asked to be drafted into a crusade. But then...the the fact that they’d all come for him-- even Lando, who he hadn’t quite forgiven yet for selling them all out-- was almost too overwhelming to consider and made denial seem petty, even for him. 

Instead he concentrated on the fact that Jabba had to be a large greasy stain on the Tatooine sands at this point, and so were all his debts. At least, the ones he owed to Jabba. It was a nice image. 

Luke only gave him an easy smile. It was one he recognized. The weariness wasn’t unexpected, but it was new. Han wondered exactly  _ how  _ much hell they had been through, without him around. Of course, they’d come through it all right, and mostly in one piece. He glanced at the glove on Luke’s hand. At some point, no one was green anymore.

“And you’re a Jedi now,” Han said, deciding that must be the reason for the newfound ease, and expression on his face. It was that maddening know-it-all  _ Jedi _ thing. You defeat one rancor with your bare hands, and suddenly the kid was all grown up.

“I’m training,” Luke said, maybe a tad defensively. 

“Hey, I’m not complaining. You saved all of our necks out there.” He blinked, and rubbed his eyes. Sitting up and trying to make out the expression on Luke’s face was straining his concentration, when he really  _ should _ be resting. 

The next thing he felt was warm fingertips against his temple, and the corner of his eye. 

“Hey--” His protest died quickly, though, because there was something like….peace,  _ radiating _ from that simple touch and through his skin. It sunk into him like good whiskey, and he blinked-- Luke’s features suddenly coming sharply into focus. The younger man’s eyes were just as warm, smiling down at him, and...had they always been that clear and blue?

“What’s wrong--?” Leia’s voice barely cut through the sudden haze in his brain. She appeared in his line of vision, and he grinned up at her, suddenly not minding that his limbs were heavy and apparently he’d been pushed back onto the cot again. She leaned in closer, scowling at him, as beautiful as ever. “Don’t tell me you were trying to sneak into that damn cockpit--”

“No, just catchin’ up with the kid, here,” Han said fondly. 

Luke’s voice was tinged with something like amusement and regret. “It looked like his head was hurting, so I…”

Leia’s fingers were in his hair, and the sensation of warmth twisted. He looked at her, suddenly incredibly pleased and  _ happy _ she was there. The frown on her face was softening, unravelling a little. Even that little knotted furrow in her brow that only ever relaxed rarely was smoothing out. He slid his larger hand over hers felt that same rush of heat swirl through him, through her. 

She shot Luke an amused look. “Did you give him something?”

“I missed you both,” he interrupted, catching Luke’s hand too, just as he started to sit back. Affection and love and something very, very close to  _ heat _ , swirling and reverberating through him. Leia shook her head, her shoulder brushing against Luke’s, and he felt that too, felt her affection and relief and Luke’s, and…

Maybe it really was time for him to pass out. 

He leaned up first, brushing his mouth against Leia’s, his free hand curling against Luke’s wrist first. Another flush of heat, this time from Leia’s side, Leia’s hands, as her cheeks heated. He felt it wash through him like a wave.

“I think he’s feeling better,” she said, sounding a little flustered herself. “What did you  _ do _ to him?”

Luke would’ve withdrawn his hand if Han hadn’t been gripping to it, he knew that, so he kept holding on. The mixture of emotions seemed to reverberate off him, through Han, to Leia and back. It was a connection he wasn’t sure he wanted to break. Not yet.

“...just a technique I read about,” Luke was saying. “Maybe I overdid it a little.”

“Lando said that they’re ready to take off soon.” Leia was keeping to the mission, like she always did, but her fingers were still carding through Han’s hair. It was incredibly calming. “If you’re going to go…”

“Stay,” Han mumbled, and he felt Luke’s smile this time, in the pit of his stomach. 

“I will,” he said. “For a little while.”

It was enough. He let himself focus on the touch of his hand, Leia’s hands, the faint vibration of the ship he loved humming through the cot mattress, and it was enough.

He was home.  
  



End file.
